


Mistletoe and Wine

by DictionaryWrites, Johannes_Evans



Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas, Cute, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johannes_Evans/pseuds/Johannes_Evans
Summary: Just a little bit of season's domesticity.
Relationships: Asmodeus (OC)/Hamish MacKinnon (OC)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Magic Beholden





	Mistletoe and Wine

Hamish stood in the doorway, shivering slightly at the thickly snowy air that bit at his skin, his shoulder leant against the wall to his side, and he looked up at Asmodeus. He blocked out the orange glow of the street lamp, broad and tall and squarely made.

He held out the bottle of wine to Hamish, dust still clinging to its yellowing label, and said in a mild tone, “Season’s greetings.”

“Your brothers are at Mass, I take it?”

“For what seems like the whole of the week.”

“And none of the priests are to your taste?”

“They’re all… boring.”

“And I’m not?”

“Not with a drink in you,” Asmodeus said mildly, and Hamish reached out, taking the bottle from him, holding it by the neck and tilting it up so he could read the label, his gaze flickering over the faded writing there. “Sex and wine, isn’t that what Christmas is about?”

“I believe the phrase is _mistletoe_ and wine.”

Asmodeus grinned at him, and Hamish took a step back toward the stairs, gesturing for Asmodeus to follow him, closing the door neatly behind him as he crossed the threshold. 

“We’re going to watch a film, first,” Hamish announced. “And I expect you to eat something. I’ve more than enough ham left for sandwiches.” 

“I’ll eat something,” Asmodeus said, and Hamish slapped his hand before it could touch him.

“Film _first_ ,” Hamish said, and Asmodeus laughed, low and dark and making a curl of pleasure sink down Hamish’s spine. “How do you feel about _It’s A Wonderful Life?”_

“Hamish,” Asmodeus complained, and now it was Hamish’s turn to laugh, reaching back for the other man’s hand and tugging him into the living room, not quite able to push the warm heat out of his cheeks, too early as yet to be blamed on wine. 

“Season’s greetings, Asmodeus,” Hamish murmured. “You pick the film.”


End file.
